


Name

by metamorcy



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Romance, Yaoi, seme Tsuna
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-12
Updated: 2013-05-25
Packaged: 2017-12-11 16:29:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/800776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/metamorcy/pseuds/metamorcy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU, Fong never had a love life due to his career so when he meets someone he calls a stranger in a bar during a job, he just goes along with it to see where it just might lead him to. 27Fong, semeTsuna</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There are no dying will flames in this story, it does have mafia but that's about it. Tsuna in an adult in this one. I'm not sure if he is dark or just boss-type so you guys can pick.

Fong sighed, looking over the crowd of people before him. This wasn't his type of place and honestly, if it wasn't for a job, he would avoid these places like a disease. A bar. Of all places he had to go to, it had to be a bar. But that was what his target enjoyed and so here he was. The Chinese man peered over the numerous people, who were sitting in the stools, drinking alcohol like there was no tomorrow, to the ones that were settled in the booths obviously flirting to either the opposite or same sex. It was clear to him what the latter were thinking of, the obvious touches and sly smiles made their intentions clear. A handful of people were dancing in the center, rubbing bodies against bodies; their feet tumbling with the beat of the music.

The assassin wiggled his nose at the stench of sweat, alcohol, and other various odors he'd rather not find out. All in all, it was a rotten place. He had to ignore the various looks thrown his way, every one of them not pleasant. He suppressed a shiver when one gaze remained on him too long and was tempted to send a glare towards the man's way, but held it in. Of course, his mood was dampened when a couple of drunkards thought he was a woman and there were those that didn't care. A piece of meat was the same anywhere and as long as there was a hole, they would be satisfied.

His black eyes turned towards his target, who was sitting within the booths, both drinking and flirting with some scandalous-looking woman. The females barely had any clothes on, revealing everything for all eyes to see. It was insulting. Fong swung on his stool to face the bar, keeping himself hidden among the crowd. He blended right in despite wearing his usual long red robe and white pants since everyone else were in multiple colors, wanting attention drawn to their bodies. He could still feel those wandering eyes over his entire body, undressing him, and thinking of terrible things being done to his body in the back of those minds. Fong was tempted to get up and snap those necks for just looking at him, but he didn't want to scare his target away. A glass of rum on rocks was in his hands, however, he hadn't touched the thing once after paying, refusing to diminish his sharp senses. He simply needed a cover so that no one would take notice of him. He ran a hand through his bangs, sighing in annoyance, and shifted his long braid backwards so that it wasn't trying to fall over his left shoulder.

"You know; if you don't want that drink, give it to me." Fong snapped his head up to look at a man that just settled along elegantly onto the stool beside him. His eyes trailed over the stylish black jacket that was zipped up, hanging around the tiny frame tightly, to the face that was far too handsome. He had to pause for a moment to take in the looks. The man before him had luscious brown hair that looked like the color of caramel, standing up in multiple ends like it was defying gravity. He studied it for a moment, realizing that there was no gel within the locks, and watched how it bounced at each movement, almost glowing from the lights behind. The face was slightly pale in color, but healthy in a sense and those cunning honey-colored eyes were sharp, watching his eye movement. He looked like he was in his early to mid-twenties, but had eyes that said he had seen it all. Regardless, the person looked like someone from a magazine, a model, and voice was smooth and confident.

Still, Fong was an assassin. Looks of a person would not sway him that easily and he had seen many just as handsome as the man before him. He peered down at his drink and finally took a sip, feeling the sharp burn of alcohol running down his throat. Fong didn't normally drink; he found that alcohol lead to impulsive and regrettable actions. He did it simply for his cover and pulled the glass away from his lips to peer at the person. "I'm working on it."

However, the brunet didn't let up. "Look, you've been staring at that glass for almost an hour. The ice has already melted," Fong glanced at his cup and indeed the ice was completely melted. A layer that separated the alcohol and the water was clear to see since it had been still for so long and it had been roughly disturbed when he drank, the lines separating the two waved up and down as it tried to make another balance. "Now give it up, I'll take it from you unless you really want it."

The Chinese man narrowed his eyebrows for a moment, his mind running over his thoughts before bringing the glass back up to his lips. He drank down the entire thing, ignoring the burning sensation, and slammed the glass against the counter. Fong gave a huff, blinking his eyes as he focused his attention before turning back to the stranger. "There, it's done."

A small smile appeared as those lips as they rose up and the man looked away towards the bartender to call out, "Hey, bartender, give me two glasses of your best!"

Fong's eyes momentarily widened, startled. "Wait a minute. I'm not joining in any silly game you're planning."

The man didn't fall behind. "I'm buying you a free drink. Enjoy it," When the brunet pulled a couple of bills out of nowhere and was returned with the drinks, he pushed the glass towards the other. Fong just stared at it like it was some sort of foreign object, refusing to acknowledge it, and peered back up at the stranger. "Come on, you looked kinda lonely here all by yourself. Drink, it'll warm you up."

The assassin sighed heavily and eventually reached for his glass, sipping on it slowly. It was strong, he could tell just by the taste of it, but continued to swallow.

"So, what are you doing here? You don't look the type to go to bars."

Fong wanted to a mutter the words 'So do you', but kept it in. "I don't really want to say, but I didn't exactly want to come here."

"That's fine. Bars aren't for everyone. Even I don't like coming here, but it's the best place to just blend in with everyone else. No one will ask questions. Everyone has their own agenda," The man brought the glass up for a long sip, but not really taking his time to enjoy it. The moment he placed it against the counter, he reached up and pointed towards someone in the crowd. "For example, that woman right there with the black top."

Curiously, the Chinese man followed the hand and spotted the said woman. She was wearing a black tank top with her midriff showing off a tattoo she had embedded into her body. Jeans covered the rest of her lower portion with five-inch high heels on her feet dyed in a deep color of blue showed off her figure.

"She's simply looking for someone to sleep with tonight. The man over there," The stranger continued and Fong's trailed after the hand. "Just wants to get drunk. Over there, that man is looking for a companion to keep him company for his depression. That man there just wants some bed company. As you can see, everyone is different."

"Then what is yours?" Fong asked, clearly amused by his stranger. It was obvious that this man was unlike the others in this rotten place and he wasn't able to get a read on the person's thoughts.

The brunet just grinned, swishing his glass back and forth. "I'm here for just a good time. I've got nothing better to do. Had a good meal just now and wanted to sit back and relax. That was, until you caught my attention."

The assassin found himself loosening up to the man as they continued talking, not sure why, but his guard just dropped like it was nothing. He didn't understand it. Perhaps it was the alcohol or those disarming smiles? "Oh? So your motives have changed?"

"If you like to believe that."

Fong couldn't help but smile, the man before him was cunning, that was for sure, and clearly entertaining. He continued to sip on his drink, quickly finishing it within moments, and could tell that the effects of the strong alcohol were starting to react within him. He shook his head to clear his mind, 'Stop, I have a mission to do. I can't be doing something like this.' Yet, he couldn't get his body to move away and instead leaned in further towards the brunet, his eyes never drifting from the other. "So, then what would you like to do?"

"That depends on how far you're willing to go," The stranger continued to speak, his honey-colored eyes watching Fong carefully. It was like they couldn't pull their gazes away. "I have no plans on forcing you to do anything. However, if you're keeping an eye out for that man there," The person pointed off to the said person at a booth, the same man that was Fong's target for assassination, and gave a smirk. "You have plenty of time. He won't be leaving until a couple of hours later. He never had any luck in getting some because he always says the wrong thing, always."

The Chinese man immediately began to hesitate at those words, feeling a shiver run down his spine, and swallowed. He had been caught and right off the bat before he could do anything. If this had been in another area, he would just simply silence the man permanently to not give away his mission and yet, there was no threat to him. It was clear he had been watched, the man had even admitted it. But the proposal was nice and it was obvious the man was kindhearted and willing to listen. It was like the other was trying to help him relax. Still, he had a job to do, a job that was now compromised since he had someone watching him. If he denied the man, those eyes would still be on him, never leaving his body. 'Guess I have no choice though I'm not really keen on the idea.'

Outstretching his hand, he allowed the stranger to take him away, pulling him toward the back rooms in a hallway that was mostly hidden from view. He passed the drunkards, the whores, the idiots, until they reached the place. The stranger's hand was warm to touch and with a tender tightening on the grasp, Fong couldn't help but smile. He was being comforted, it was such an odd thing especially considering what he was supposed to do to his target, and shook his head, staring at the hallway as they entered. Various rooms met his eyes and he sighed, hoping he wouldn't regret his decision.

* * *

Two hours later did Fong finally managed to free himself from the bed, his entire body aching terribly and yet it was a pleasing ache. The Chinese man slammed the door closed behind, not wanting to look back inside where he had been. Memories of hands touching his naked body, of toe curling pleasure, of screams, of cries, of sweat was all too real for him. His skin burned at the memories, still able to trace those cunning hands as they ran their course over him, making sure that there was nowhere untouched. There were kisses, breathtaking kisses that just seemed to suck his breath away and left him dry. A flicker of a memory of a hot mouth over his arousal, sucking and twisting him in a way he never thought was possible.

His body could still remember the fingers shifting their way inside of him, filling him up, and stretching him as they brushed against that bundle of nerves inside. His throat was parched from his screaming, his begging for more, demanding for that wonderful pleasure that made him desire more. And then there had been the moment he had been taken,  _repeatedly_ , over and over again as he was pounded. He could still feel the man's arousal moving against him, moving deeper inside, and his legs curled around the body desperately to keep his mind sane. His nails were sore probably from raking into the man's back and had a little bit of blood trapped within that revealed just how high he had gone. Despite his attempts, it had been impossible. He was just sucked into the pleasures that wringed and whacked his body, falling instantly. Even as he came, those sensations never left him, continuing its course again until he fell once more.

For those two hours, he hadn't rested. His body had simply been repositioned before the man went at him again like he was enjoying the screams Fong released. The Chinese man ran a hand through his hair, knowing it was covered in sweat and disheveled. The braid was loose, various ends sticking everywhere, and his clothes were hanging off his shoulders, the buttons undone. His boots were untied and his face was flushed bright red. Each step reminded him what had happened, the throbbing within him getting stronger. He hadn't expected that the man would affect him in such a way, not like this. As he walked, he could feel a squishing sound within his pants, knowing what it could only belong to.

And he still didn't know the man's name despite what happened between them.

Fong wanted to hit his head against the wall to clear his mind and make him focus, but resisted. He didn't want to draw attention to himself at this moment. A few people that passed through the hallway peered at him curiously and smirked at his condition. Just as he got halfway back to the main barroom, the door he had come out of opened up, revealing the man he had just slept with, been controlled by, with only his pants on. His body was thin with some protruding show of muscles and the man stepped closer, carrying something in one hand.

"You forgot something," The brunet whispered into an ear when he got close enough, his lips purposefully brushing against an earlobe. Fong shivered at the touch, making a light pleasing sound as he tilted his head back. He felt a hand going around his waist and peered down to see what it was. His belt, it was his belt that contained a few knives that he used for his assassinations. Fong's eyes widened and tried to push himself away from the grasp, but the man was faster, stronger, and held him still. His intention towards his target was clear now, anyone could make sense of it, and he couldn't leave a witness behind. The man just buckled up the device around his waist like there was nothing wrong and smirked. "You sure you don't want to stay a little longer? Your target is still out there. I promise you he won't be leaving for another three hours."

"What…" Fong couldn't believe what he was hearing, the man didn't care that he was an assassin, and was even willing to invite him back into bed. A sharp ache pulsed through his body, his desire of wanting more, and yet the mission was still on his mind. He looked away, clear he was already hesitating. He couldn't believe what a single man could do to his mind, fumbling it up in ways it wasn't possible or at least that's what he thought. The assassin tried to move away, but the grip on him was tight and those cunning hands were back on his body, moving up under his red robe. A gasp escaped his lips and his body trembled, arching his back against the other. He squeezed his eyes shut and felt those hands moving back down towards his waist. Before he knew it, he was being lifted up from below with the stranger's hands on his ass. His legs immediately wrapped around the brunet's waist, holding him up, and his arms went around the shoulders. The man just chuckled in amusement, looking like he had won the lottery, and began to make his way back to the bedroom with Fong riding along.

Fong could only wonder in the back of his mind on what was wrong with him before that pleasure assaulted him again, his thoughts vanishing from his mind.


	2. Chapter 2

Fong opened the door to his apartment, collapsing straight onto the cold hardwood floor the moment he stepped in. He didn't want to move anymore, not after what had happened, and wanted nothing more than to just lie in this same spot forever. However, there were still some things to do first. Just barely rolling around onto his back, he kicked the door closed and winced as a sharp stabbing pain went up his spine from that one movement. Refusing to move any more, his eyes stared up at his ceiling, desperate for his mind to make sense of everything. Both his mind and body were completely exhausted, his thoughts drifting towards nothing, and it was impossible to actually concentrate on a single subject. His memories of what had happened after he had been carried back to the room were still clear to him and enjoyed repeating itself to torment him.

About thirty minutes into another session of hot toe-curling sex, he had passed out completely of exhaustion, his vision going black just as he came for the final time, and collapsed right onto the stranger's body. The other had just chuckled, cradling him carefully, and Fong had barely felt a hand moving through his hair before succumbing into the darkness. He wasn't exactly sure how long he had actually been asleep for, slumbering in peace without a care in the world. It could have been only for a few minutes or hours, he wasn't sure. But soft tender hands had drifted him back out, shaking him awake.

Fong hadn't known what was going on at that single moment, his mind hazy and his body sore. It was like he was in some sort of trance, an afterglow of peace, and he didn't want to leave that sensation just yet. And those hands, those dangerously cunning hands trailed down his naked body, dancing along like they were making a pattern. He remembered shivering to those touches, moaning softly, and shifted towards them for more as if demanding. He hadn't been aware of himself at all, his body still desiring, still wanting more of that wonderfully addicting pleasure. As his eyes finally fluttered open, his mind tried to focus on the settings and spotted the brunet that had done all of this to him, standing there with a smile on his face. He could see those hands still on him, now massaging deep into his skin, and he simply moaned some more, arching his back as he rolled over onto his stomach to allow more access. His brain wasn't working, Fong was certain of that, the circuits probably shorted out from the pleasure that had racked his body bare. But then the touches vanished and the Chinese man had enough strength to lift himself up onto his elbows to look back, feeling the bony ends dig into the mattress.

With a couple of words from the stranger, he had learned his target was just beginning to get ready to leave and immediately snapped himself back into reality. It was like something within him woke up and he was instantly springing up to get dressed for work. Despite his sore body, he moved around with the same gracefulness he always had and made sure this time around not to leave anything behind. The brunet had helped out, fixing his hair for him, and even checked the room out to make sure that nothing was missed. Fong found it odd that the other would do such a thing, but didn't voice it, thinking he would ruin the moment if he did. It was like there was a barrier between them, neither of them saying a word about what had happened. However, the moment everything was done and over with, Fong finally spoke. It had been just a simple goodbye, nothing more, nothing less. There were no promises of meeting up again, no demands for explanations, nothing. He had just left, rushing back out just in time to see his target heading towards the front door. From there, he slipped into his assassination facial mask and maneuvered his body around the crowd and outside until he got his target alone.

His job was done before he knew it, a simple twist of the neck, and his target was dead, lying abandoned in the middle of alleyway for some unfortunate soul to come across later in the day. Soon after clearing out any evidence that could be traced back to him, he was heading home while calling his temporary boss to let him know it had been done. After that, he had opened his apartment door and found himself leading back to where he currently is at, only to loop to the beginning once more.

'What the hell is wrong with me?' Fong reached up, cradling an arm over his head like he was trying to feel for something, before finally forcing himself up to move. His body stumbled pass the kitchen, not bothering to eat despite it being early in the morning, and went straight to his bedroom. He needed rest, nothing else, to recover from his late-night activities, and flopped down onto the cool sheets. His body bounced gently from the springs of the mattress, almost like it was rocking him to sleep, and within seconds, he was already drifting off. His eyes glanced over his bedroom for a second, checking by habit, and as if reassuring himself that he was safe, his mind crashed straight into dream land.

It wasn't until the late afternoon did he finally stir from his deep slumber, stretching outwards across his bed in an effort to wake himself up. He listened to his bones creak at the movements, the covers shuffling underneath, and let out a content sigh in return. Slowly, he sat up onto his elbows to take a blurred look around his room, checking for the usual, and collapsed back down when he was certain everything looked exactly the same as before. However, just moving brought back that horrible throbbing sensation from below, his ass pulsing in soreness. At least it was finally diminishing down into an annoying dullness. Still, it was a pain to just move and he rolled to the side to check the time before sighing. It was too late to get up now, about an hour or so from dinner, and he was tempted to forgo a meal to continue resting, but his stomach said otherwise. A low growl, muffled by the sheets, went through the air and the Chinese man sighed once more.

'Better get something to eat…' He gradually made his way up to sitting, wincing at each spike of pain, and managed to lift his feet off the side of the bed, scooting close to the edge. Each spark seemed to make him wonder about the man within the back of his mind, his memories of the encounter still clear to him, almost vivid, but he refused to let it take control. He couldn't, he was a professional, and there couldn't be anything that would get in his way. And yet…and yet, his thoughts kept going back to the one man that seemed to twist him in a way he didn't think was possible. 'I'm screwed, aren't I?'

* * *

It was a few days later after that fateful meeting that Fong decided to venture out of his apartment, no longer sore, and get something to eat. He normally didn't like heading out to the restaurants due to their standards on food-making, but just for today only, he didn't want to cook anything at all. He didn't want to clean, wash the dishes, or prepare anything. It was too much trouble at this point of time. His payment from his employer had come in two days ago through various transfers of bank accounts, hiding the tracks of the transaction, and he was definitely going to put it to good use.

As he wandered up and down the various streets of England, the country he had decided to temporarily stay in for the past three months, he examined each restaurant carefully as he went by and eventually, he came across a small one at a corner of a street. Italian. The only one he had seen throughout the entire setting, different compared to the usual Asian and American chains with a few old-fashioned English pubs that populated the rest of the street, and peered inside through the tinted windows to check the insides. His dark eyes observed the numerous people within, dining either in the booths or tables, and seemed to be enjoying themselves through their expressions alone. Whether they were alone or with a group, the happiness shining on their faces at each bite was enough to seal the deal within Fong's mind. Taking the chance, he entered through the double doors and went straight to the greeter, stating he was here on his own. The person nodded to his comment and showed him to his seat towards the far right corner of the building in a booth, keeping him somewhat hidden from view except at the entrance. It was the perfect place for someone like him and he gave a small mutter of 'thanks' to the greeter.

The peacefulness the restaurant held within its little setting was greatly appreciated and his eyes trailed over the details of the place with inquisitiveness. It was quite plain in a sense with a large, fake crystal-like chandelier at the top with a painting of a midnight sky over the ceiling. White dots to symbolize the stars were visible and seemed to compliment everything just right. From there, he went to the walls surrounding the building, looking over the paintings of night skies that were various in nature. Fong smirked, everything seemed to go along with the mood, it was probably the reason why the restaurant is called "Notte Stellata", and peered down at his menu.

His black eyes drifted over the various listings of items before conclusively choosing something he was familiar with, risotto. He smiled gently to himself, remembering the time an old friend of his had created this dish for everyone for dinner to share. Luce, his former employer, ally, and boss, had been a brilliant woman despite being in the dark world. She was kindhearted and people were willing to follow her to their deaths, him being included into that bunch. There were others that joined her little group, known as the Arcobaleno, who were the strongest among everyone else in the mafia. He himself was well-known for his martial arts, being the champion for three years in a row, and was highly sought out for all sorts of reasons. It didn't matter, from body guarding to assassinations, he could do it, but not without a fee and his agreement. Fong just so happened to be a picky worker and never enjoyed doing dirty jobs that earned his distaste, forcing him to do one resulted in broken bones. Anyway, he had a few apprentices here and there along the years, but not many could keep up with his training. As much as he wanted to pass on his knowledge, it wasn't possible if there weren't any good candidates to inherit.

As for Luce, she had died during an inadvertent car accident three years ago. It was fatal, no chance to survive, leaving her only daughter, Aria, to run everything behind. The Arcobaleno group had lent their help when needed, taking in the young daughter happily to help teach her their ways. But it wasn't the same. It wasn't the same as having Luce with them and soon, everything began to fall apart. Fong sighed, he should have known it would have occurred sooner or later the moment the funeral began.

Peering up, he glanced at the waiter that came by and placed his order, asking for a glass of water as well to quench his thirst. He handed the menu back and went into his quiet state again. His mind reflected over the past three years, knowing it had been a long time since he had contacted anyone within the Arcobaleno group. He has no clue on how they were doing besides the occasional rumors echoing from the dark world. They could be dead for all he knew and he would never find out. Still, regardless, he wanted some peace from all the craziness that had occurred after the Arcobaleno went their separate ways and eventually moved to England of all places for a simple change of pace. As much as he loved his home country, China, with a little bit of Italy on the side, he wanted to see other places that were on the map.

His mind continued to wander over his past memories, ignoring the front door opening up, and the footsteps coming straight towards him until he heard something slam hard onto his table. Fong blinked and snapped his head up, thinking it was an enemy only to stare in shock. "You!"

The man before him chuckled in amusement like he was enjoying the sight of Fong's shocked expression and flopped down onto the other side of the booth. Before him is a bottle of wine, the label reading 'Gaja Barbaresco 2000' and had never been opened with its dark colored glass discolored from the contents inside. But Fong wasn't paying any attention to that, no, his eyes were glued to the man before him, immediately recognizing that beautiful brown hair and eyes. And now that the brunet was in the light and not the darkness of the bar, the full features were clear for all eyes to see. He was handsome beyond believe, able to put many male models to shame with his good looks, and had a soft complexion that made him absolutely perfect. Nothing was wrong, everything seemed to fit together like a puzzle.

The brunet chuckled again and tilted his head as he waved the waiter over, his honey-colored eyes never leaving Fong. "Do you need some company? You look pretty lonely there all on your own. It's a Friday night after all."

The Chinese man could only stare in shock, his mind still reeling over the fact that the man that had been haunting his mind for the past few days had just randomly showed up out of nowhere. He was still trying to ascertain his brain that what he was seeing was real and not an illusion. His ears picked up words as the brunet spoke to the waiter, ordering his food alongside his, before turning back to him.

"So, I have this nice bottle of wine but no one to share it with. And then I saw you while I was passing by and decided to drop in." The brunet reached over and pulled off the cord with ease, using only his bare hands. A sharp 'pop' echoed in the room and he pushed the bottle forward, obviously offering it.

Fong glanced at it for a moment before taking the colored glass into his hands and read over the label, watching from the corner of his eyes as the waiter came back with two wine glasses. He poured the ruby red liquid into both of them, observing the way the fluids swished back and forth, before placing the bottle back down. It stained the see-through glasses but, as seconds passed, it faded. Grasping the bottom carefully, he cupped his fingers around the top of the stem, and brought the tip to his lips, just tasting the rich taste. The juice was definitely rich, a perfect mixture of grapes and alcohol. "It's delicious."

"It costs 230 Euros so it'd better be."

The assassin almost choked on those words, coughing gently, before reaching for his water to gulp it down. He released a content sigh afterwards and peered up at the brunet with a look akin to horror. "You're joking."

The man just smiled. "Afraid not."

Fong stared at the bottle again, picking it up with one hand to examine the label thoroughly once again before placing it back down. He didn't understand why such a bottle would be so expensive, but it does look like it had been imported directly from Italy and he knew that country made some of the best wines in the world. Perhaps that was why Reborn, his old friend, was content with just his Italian bottles than any other beverage. "So…why are you here? I doubt it's just for some company and to share this expensive wine."

The brunet chuckled and took another sip before placing the glass down, filling it up with more. "You caught me. I'm kinda interested in you. Curious in a sense."

"Are you sure your curiosity won't get you in trouble? You already know about my…job." Fong edged, one hand slipping down towards his belt for one of his hidden knives. He knew that talking with this person was a risk and letting him live after completing his job was even worse. He was in a bad position and in a crowded place as well, his actions were limited to not gain an audience. Still, the man before him didn't even flinch at the threat and seemed content despite knowing he is in danger.

"I doubt your 'trouble' will kill me. And I don't care about your job honestly, I'm only interested in you. So, how about it? Willing to keep me company?"

The assassin observed every move, every shift, but nothing gave the other away. It was just like that time in the bar where he had been disarmed through words only, alcohol only playing a small part, and it was happening all over again. His heart sped up at knowing how this dinner would end and yet, he didn't mind all that much. Fong swung the glass back, gulping the rest of his drink down to give him a momentary peace, before looking over at the other. What is he supposed to say? Yes? No? Maybe? Regardless of his hesitating thoughts, his curiosity about the other was rising and he _still_ didn't know the man's name! "Why not?" Fong replied as he went for the bottle, pouring himself another glass. "But I must ask, how _did_ you find me?"

"Hmm?" The brunet hummed gently, swishing the liquid back and forth within the bowl glass. He lazily glanced at the other, one eye closed shut, and was leaning to the side.

"I'm hidden from view, there's no way you would have seen me unless you were following me in the first place."

"Ah, you caught me. I was. I'm just too interested in you to let you go after that one night. Can't deny such a delicious sight after all."

Fong felt his cheeks heating up and twisted away to cough, refusing to let those words get to him. He wasn't going to fall for another one of those tricks, he wasn't. Cunning words, he wouldn't let them sway him. He sipped on his drink again, trying to prevent himself from actually replying and saying something stupid. He knew he would do so sooner or later. It was too obvious with such a man. But he was still curious about the other, he couldn't help it much less sate it. "So…why are you so interested in me in the first place? I'm not that different from everyone else in here."

"Are you sure about that?" The stranger chuckled. "You look more beautiful and much more handsome than anyone else here. You have an aura that screams elegance and individuality. I like that in a person. You don't look like any of those slobs out there and you may not know, but in the bar, you stood out with those looks of yours." The brunet reached over and brushed his hands along Fong's cheek, cupping it so that they could stare directly into each other. A small innocent-looking smile is on his lips and his pale fingers stroked the cheeks lovingly with such gentleness that Fong shivered into the touch. He watched with those sharp eyes of his as the Chinese man remained still, absorbing his words, the cheeks dusted darkly. Before long, Fong snapped himself out of his daze and yanked away, immediately excusing himself from the table to head to the bathroom. He couldn't believe how easily he fell for those lines, his heart pounding wildly and painfully within his chest. It hurt. It hurt just how hard his heart was beating.

Fong slammed the door closed behind him, feeling at peace once he was out of that gaze, and went straight to the sink. His fingers clumsily grasped the handle of the faucet and twisted it on, listening to the gushing cold water spilling out. His hands cupped underneath the flow and he leaned over to splash a few times onto his face, trying to cool his rapidly warming face. It was unbelievable that such a man as the brunet outside could affect him so easily and with little trouble. He had meet plenty of cunning and handsome men before in his life from those within the Arcobaleno to many of his employers, but none of them seemed to sway him so effortlessly. 'Dammit, concentrate, Fong. You can't be swept away by that man's words. You're a professional!'

"You know, you shouldn't allow my words to get to you so easily," Fong snapped his head up, his eyes peering straight into the mirror, and spotted the brunet there behind him, watching him intently. He gapped in surprise. He hadn't heard the stranger coming in at all! Had he been so engulfed by his own thoughts to forget about his surroundings? He pulled away from the sink, turning it off, and rotated around only to feel something rub against his face. The assassin blinked questionably, startled by the rough fabric, until he realized what it was. A paper towel. The man was helping him…Fong's face darkened once more, wanting nothing more than to move away, but the brunet was faster. He grasped Fong's shoulder gently, tightening his hold, and continued to dry the face gently, making sure to not miss a droplet. Once the brunet was done, he seemed to pause for a moment before reaching up to straighten the black hair, letting his fingers run through the soft, silky locks. Fong let out a little gasp in delight as those sensations hit him, his body shivering gently, and unconsciously leaned into the touch. The stranger just smiled at the reaction and continued, making sure the other looked as presentable as possible, before pulling back. "There, you look all better."

"A-Ah, thanks," Fong whispered softly under his breath and sighed once more. It seemed that no matter what he did, the other just knew how to make him react. However, due to his lack of attention, he didn't notice the brunet moving again until a warm hand touched his cheeks. He made a light confused sound from the back of his throat and peered up curiously, wondering what was going on. That was, until he felt something warm and soft press against his lips. His black eyes widened in shock, clearly not expecting such an attack, and froze to his spot. However, the kiss didn't last long and it was over before he knew it. Fong stood there, shell shocked, and swallowed as he stared at the other man, his eyes searching for something. "W-What?" His fingers immediately went up to his lips, still able to feel the lingering tingling sensation on them, and let out a few mumbles due to his lack of coordination.

The brunet just laughed. "Well, come on out. I'm certain the food is ready by now." He leaned over to grasp the long braid, letting it slip through his hands before pressing a kiss at the end of it, well aware of the eyes on him. Giving a smile, he slipped out of the bathroom, leaving Fong on his own, within his own thoughts.

'I can't believe he just did that…' Fong knew his cheeks were on fire, desperately wanting something to calm him down. He took a few deep breaths, but not even his meditation could help him, shoulders slumping downward in defeat. 'How can someone affect me so easily?! I'm acting like one of those high school girls in a drama.' Taking another deep breath, he held it in for a few moments before releasing, feeling some of the tension escaping his body. Deciding that this was the best he was going to get, he opened the door to leave the bathroom, his eyes going straight to the brunet at the booth. The man sat there, haven't touched his food despite having the hot plate there, and just sipped calmly on his wine happily. He seemed to be humming a small tune, looking completely content and at peace.

Fong glided over, settling into his seat, and peered down at his risotto, picking up his spoon to begin eating. It kept his mind off the person just a foot away, leaving the two in silence. But the assassin found himself itching for some conversation, something to keep him going from showing his nervousness. "So…what do you do for a living?"

The brunet peered up, momentarily putting down his fork in gratitude. It was like he didn't want to eat his dinner despite ordering it. Fong found it odd, but didn't question it. "It depends. Think of me as a jack of all trades. I can do anything if I want to, work as a teacher, a doctor, a business man, it doesn't matter. Those that hire me know I can get the job done. Of course, I'm picky about what I do seeing as I don't want to get stuck doing something stupid or far above my head. This is the reason why I said, I can take can all the troubles you have. Sometimes the jobs we don't like get the most pay."

The Chinese man smiled at that. "So then, how old are you?"

"Me? Not telling." The brunet chuckled, taking another gulp, and refilled his glass.

Fong almost wanted to pout. "Nationality?"

"Japanese. You're Chinese, yes?"

"Yeah."

The brunet continued to sip, paying little to no attention to the food before him. The waiter eventually came around to refill the drinks and peered down at the almost uneaten meal. "Sir? Is there something wrong with our food? You've barely touched it."

The man just gave a smile. "Forgive me, but I'm afraid that I've already eaten. I just couldn't come in here with some wine and not order something," The waiter seemed to understand and was about to leave when the brunet continued, "Ah, and before I forget, here," The other reached into his pockets to pull out a few bills, tossing it over to the waiter who stared at it in question. "For the bill, I'll pay."

"Hold on," Fong immediately interrupted. "I'll be paying or at least for my own."

The brunet chuckled. "It's fine. I have more than enough to spend. I'm sure you do, too. Next time you go out, invite me and you can pay." He gave a small wink and pushed the waiter away, his intention clear. To Fong, it meant that the brunet was hinting of going out together again like this and much more. He coughed, turning away, knowing he was starting to lose to the other and so easily, too.

"You're too good at this," Fong sighed, finishing up his meal and glanced down at the brunet's before taking it. "I might as well eat this or take it back home. It'd be a shame to waste food after all."

"Do whatever you like. I didn't really contaminate it if you were worried about that."

Fong smirked. "No, I'm not really worried at all. I've been taught since young that food should never be put to waste and should be finished. Let's just say I came from a poor family originally. Food was sparse back then and so old habits die hard."

The brunet shook his head at that. "It's not a bad habit though. Don't worry about it, enjoy the meal and the wine, it's technically free for you."

The Chinese man just laughed, feeling his barriers towards everyone and the world collapsing. He just didn't understand how one person could slip through everything and leave him completely defenseless.

* * *

Fong groaned loudly as he shifted around in bed, the early morning sun greeting him as the first thing back into reality. He moved around in his blankets, trying to get into a better spot, before eventually giving up. Apparently, he had forgotten to close the curtains the night before and now he was suffering for it. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open, taking in his bedroom before turning his attention to the other side of his head. Nothing. No one was there and it was cold, telling him that the person had left long ago. He should have known the brunet wouldn't stay long. Letting out a depressed sigh, he rolled back around towards his nightstand, wanting to know what time it is.

He made a small grunt when a sharp pain spread through his body momentarily before collapsing back down, feeling the coolness of the bed sheets settle around him. It felt good and he didn't want to leave at all. But despite his feelings, it was almost one in the afternoon and he knew he should be getting up soon. Fong paused, narrowing his eyebrows for a moment. 'For what am I getting up for? I don't have any work today. But still…' He stared up at the window for a few moments before finally making his way up, wincing as he stood. His legs shook gently before finally getting control of his weight and made his way over to the curtains, slamming them shut. He was well aware of the squishing sounds within his butt cheeks, but ignored it for better things. Turning back to his bed for more rest, he paused.

There, on the other side of the nightstand, was a neatly written piece of paper and he quickly made his way over, ignoring the pain that sparked up from it. His fingers grasped the thin sheet, looking over the plain white page and to the handwriting within. It was neat and elegant, like something that was shown in the old days compared to the usual in the present. Fong smirked at that, shaking his head, and went over to settle onto his bed to rest. His eyes trailed over the words. "Good morning, or perhaps it's good afternoon by the time you wake up. Well, whenever you do, yes, I left you alone in your house. But not before taking care of some things. You'll find breakfast covered in the refrigerator so you can just heat that up for your meal of the day. As for me, I had fun. I still find you unique among the rest of the people on this Earth so like I said last night, if you ever plan on heading out, make sure you invite me. I would love to go and learn more about you. My number is XXX-XXX-XXXX. See you again, handsome."

By the end, the Chinese man knew his heart was speeding up, unsure if it was because of the flirting that was through the paper or the promise of another night together. Putting the paper away for safe keeping, he flopped back into bed, finally noticing his braid had been undone and the hair was all loose before staring up at the ceiling. It had been an odd trip yet…exciting, too. Fong shifted his body so that he could be back into bed, wanting to recover from last night activities, and placed his head against the soft pillow. He could still smell the scent of the man from last night, still going strong, and shifted towards it. His mind and body could still feel everything from the night before, the burning sensation of the pleasure still scorching him. And it felt great, welcoming, and he loved it.

Fong closed his eyes as he drifted off, knowing he would meet the other man again some time soon.


	3. Chapter 3

Fong peered down at his phone, having saved the stranger's number in his contact list, or was at least trying to. Despite the two meetings, he didn't know the person's name and he couldn't figure out what to put in the 'name' of the contact. The assassin sighed and decided to put something down so that he could identify it among the rest. He had little to no numbers in his phone except for the Arcobaleno's and a few mafia bosses he had gotten to know over the years. But he was certain that by now, they would have changed their numbers.

Saving the contact, he gave a quick text of 'Hello' towards the brunet before exiting his apartment, heading out into the world to get some groceries. The food the stranger had cooked for him had been delicious and considering how little he had in his place, it had been a miracle the other had been able to cook anything in the first place. Everything had been cleared up by the brunet; the kitchen was in perfect shape. It was amazing, but Fong didn't think much of it. He stepped outside to the sun, feeling the burning rays above him and went towards the shopping area. A vibration against his waist alerted him he had received a text. While still walking, he pulled the phone out of his pocket and opened the message immediately upon seeing who it is.

'Hello back, how are you feeling this morning?'

Fong blinked at how plain the message was, but it didn't bother him, he found it warming, and texted back. 'I feel fine, thanks for asking. What are you doing today?'

'Nothing much honestly. My work should be done soon. Busy busy busy. I feel like I'm dealing with idiots at times, or maybe children would be a better term? Whichever works.'

The Chinese man chuckled in amusement, continuing on, texting a reply back.

Days passed as they traded messages repeatedly, Fong never minding since it actually kept his days occupied and interesting. He had been alone and on his own from everyone for far too long and this man was quickly changing that. He enjoyed every moment and longed for the brunet to be by his side than away, to keep him company in person. When he began to feel that, the brunet would suddenly appear in his most unusual ways to surprise him and remaining around him for hours, driving those feelings away. Of course, it always led back to being in bed and that wonderful pleasure, but Fong knew deep within he enjoyed those moments.

It didn't take long before the stranger began popping into his apartment either at night or the early morning and stay over. How the man had gotten his key to the apartment, the Chinese man had never figured out, but let it go. Fong would sometimes wake up to find the brunet sleeping beside him all curled up, somehow bypassing his sharp senses, which is a miracle itself, or cooking for him in the morning. It was really sweet of the man to do so and unlike many other men out there, sex was never added to everything. There were times where they would just sit together on the couch and he would end up falling asleep during a movie or they would just go to bed together with nothing else happening just for the fun of it. Of course, when the brunet found out what Fong had been naming him on the phone, he felt himself growing a little embarrassed. Handsome stranger; that was what he had been calling the brunet on his phone. The stranger had just laughed and kissed Fong soon after, teasing the other out of amusement.

Fong found the days with the brunet passing by quickly, he was getting used to the man being constantly around him. He did question the times when the brunet vanished into thin air, but he always seemed to come back shortly afterwards. It was odd and questionable, but he'd never voiced it. Still, it was funny how much of his life can change just from one single person busting in. They still passed text messages between each other even when Fong had to take missions to pay his bills, eliminating his target quickly so that he could get back. He couldn't help but desire being around the brunet, the man held something strong over him that he didn't understand or mind. Regardless, by the time three months had passed, Fong did get suspicious as to why they had never exchanged names, but also found it funny. It was hilarious how they had managed to get around each other without figuring out each other's names and he was certain it had become a game of sorts, to see who would crack first and reveal it.

And he went along with it.

One day, Fong headed out for a meeting with a boss of an unfamiliar famiglia, needing to get the details of his new mission to complete. The pay for this job was high, but a little suspicious. It was too much for something that should be considered simple; leading him to believe there was something more than it meets the eye on the paper. He couldn't alert the brunet on what was going to happen, so he left a note behind and made his way to the meeting place. Slipping into the building he was supposed to head into, he took notice of his surroundings, making sure it wasn't a trap before jumping down. He could see the boss and his men ahead, out in the open, and they were alone, he was certain of that.

"Ah, you're Fong, the storm Arcobaleno, yes?" The boss spoke, looking unruly compared to the many up-kept bosses he had met in the past. Even the boss of the Chinese Triads made sure to look his absolute best each and every day with a different silk robe or a neat business suit on for show. Even the subordinates did the same so it was apprehensive to see someone doing something different.

The assassin nodded his head; his arms folded into his robe, and took a step forward to place himself more into the light. "Yes, that is correct. How can I help you?"

The boss peered over Fong's form, obviously taking in his curves and facial features, making the assassin narrow his eyes in distaste. He was insulted by the look in the person's eyes, seeing lust within, but didn't reveal his repugnance, knowing better than to let his emotions slip around onto his facial. "I need you to take care of someone for me. He's a pest in a sense. Also, I came with a proposal for you as well."

"A proposal?"

"Yes, join my famiglia."

"I refuse," Fong's response was immediate and quite blunt. The Chinese man shook his head and took a step back just in case things got ugly. He knew this type of men, all brawn and no brain. "I have other loyalties."

The boss didn't seem offended by the blunt reply and just smirked, leading the Arcobaleno to think of the worst. It was unusual after all. Most men who had asked similar things had shown their disappointment and immediately seek for exchanges for his alliance. This one did neither. "Are you sure about that? I've been keeping tabs on you, or tried to. It seems the men I keep sending out to watch you keep getting killed off before they can do their job, but they have managed to send me a few good things with their sacrifice."

The assassin froze deep within, refusing to let his shock show on his face. He couldn't believe he had been so happy, so content with everything, to forget that he was still dealing with the underworld and some of the worst people known to mankind.

"That cute little brunet of yours is your lover, right?"

"Lover?" Fong blinked, were they considered that? He bit his bottom lip, he guessed it was possible to be considered lovers from the way they were acting, never being too far apart and almost practically living together.

"Ah, yes, your lover. He's at your place right now, correct? Join me and nothing will happen to him."

The assassin's fingers twitched within his sleeves, knowing very well he had been trapped with the brunet being used as a hostage. It could honestly be a lie or it could be the truth. However, never once had he felt any eyes on him during the time the brunet, never. That didn't mean that the brunet hadn't been followed instead. He grounded his teeth together in frustration, wanting nothing more than to head back to make sure that his stranger was alright and not in someone else's hands.

Wait…his stranger? Fong shook his head, he couldn't be thinking on such things at this moment when there were more important matters on hand.

The boss of the famiglia before him laughed amusingly, watching Fong's confused yet tormented facial expressions. "Well, Fong? I'm waiting for your answer."

Sighing in defeat, the assassin peered up and opened his mouth. He didn't want anything to happen to the brunet. He would follow along for now and make plans later to get the stranger out of the situation.

"He's not joining."

Fong blinked, closing his mouth immediately, confused at the voice that had echoed throughout the building. He had been fully prepared to give into the demands to have the other kept safe and yet…and yet, here he was. "You…"

The brunet smirked, stepping out of the shadows he had been hiding in. His shoes, the heels, made sharp clicks on the cement ground and his caramel-colored hair seemed to glow in the weak lighting of the building. His eyes were narrowed with his eyebrows scrunched up under the long bangs and he was glaring hatefully. His arms were crossed against his chest and he stopped once he got close to the center, standing between the two groups. "I figured that something was off when I suddenly felt a large number of men around the complex. Guess my intuition is correct like always."

There was a 'tch' from the enemy's side and the men that were beside him slowly reached into their back where their weapons were obviously stored at. Fong didn't move, his mind still in shock.

"I must admit, your men tasted terrible. And I don't appreciate anyone endangering what I've claimed as mine."

Fong blinked again. "Mine?" He tilted his head and pulled his arms out of his sleeves. "Since when did I decide to be yours?"

The brunet turned his attention towards the assassin, chuckling. "Since you started sleeping with me."

The Chinese man had no response to that, knowing it was true. Regardless, there were other questions within his mind that he needed answered, more important than the men that were about to shoot. He had known there was something off about the brunet since the beginning, but now it was obvious more than ever. "Who are you…exactly?"

Stepping closer, the man looked up into the assassin's eyes and gave a soft smile. "I honestly didn't think my identity would be revealed like this, but it's probably better that I do it now before our…relationship goes any further. I'm not exactly human by standards. You people would call me a demon," Fong's eyes widened at that announcement and when he was about to open his mouth to voice something, the brunet raised his hand up. "Before you say anything or come to conclusions, no, I'm not evil. I don't go around killing people…technically. These men don't count, they attacked me first. And I didn't trick you and I have no plans of doing anything evil to you either. I will admit that I do eat human souls as my meal, but I try not to do so unless I have no choice. Does that clear things up on your side?"

Fong took a deep breath, quietly thinking to himself as he thought over the information. It was true…the brunet had done nothing terrible to him and it would explain the unusual disappearances. But still…a demon? Of all things, no, people, the being before him was a person, he had to meet up with. The brunet tilted his head, knowing exactly what the confusion that was occurring was about and leaned forward, pressing their lips together. Fong was startled out of his trance and his eyes snapped towards the demon in confusion, eyebrows scrunched together. It didn't last long, just a momentary brush, but it was enough to awaken Fong.

"Tsuna," The assassin made a small sound in the back of his throat and the other just chuckled. "My name is Tsuna. Yours?"

Automatically, he answered, "Fong."

"Then Fong," The Chinese man shivered at how delightful his name sounded when it passed those lips and swallowed at the way those eyes were looking at him. Tsuna shook his head and turned towards the men that were targeting them both. "Let's talk after all this, somewhere safer than here."

Those words brought Fong back into reality and the gravity of their situation. "Ah, that's true."

"Then, come on," Tsuna reached out with his hand, waiting patiently for the other to grab it and Fong did. The Arcobaleno sighed peacefully at the warmth that filled him, knowing for a fact that he was safe within the other's grasp. He didn't understand why, but he just did and smiled as he leaned towards the brunet. "Let's work together. If we do then there's nothing we can't do, right?"

"Yeah, you're right," Fong wanted nothing more than to lean further towards that grasp, but he knew couldn't. It wasn't the best time and he peered towards the enemy famiglia after taking a deep breath. "Alright, I'm ready. Let's go."

Tsuna peered at him curiously before nodding. "Yeah."

* * *

Fong peered out the window from the living room in his apartment and sighed, leaning back against the couch. The fight between the group hadn't been that difficult, quite simple actually due to his skills and Tsuna's unusual strength. He figured it belonged with the demon part so he didn't question it all that much, but it still surprised him. Tsuna was powerful; there was no doubt about it. He had seen a small flickering of flames within those hands, burning with a beautiful orange brilliance, before it vanished, and the eyes…The eyes, which were normally a honey color, had turned into a stunning orange hue and it made Tsuna look more dangerous and cunning than ever before. Fong tried to ignore it all, but it was hard when he saw such a wonder before his eyes, almost forgetting about the enemy.

After the fight, they walked back quietly, barely speaking a word until into the apartment which left the assassin exactly where he currently was. Tsuna wondered about the room before heading over to Fong's side, settling down beside him. He tilted his head, letting his brown locks fall over his face and stared straight into the black eyes. "So…what are you going to do now?"

The Chinese man just sighed again, slumping his shoulders downward, before bringing his head back towards the ceiling. "Honestly? I'm not entirely sure. I wasn't exactly expecting the person I've been-" Fong paused for a moment, not sure on how to continue or say about their relationship.

Tsuna seemed to realize that and shook his head gently. "Dating."

"Huh?"

"We've been dating. You can't deny it now after how many months have passed."

Smiling, Fong nodded. "That's true. I can't. Perhaps it might be best to start things from the beginning? I would like to know more about you and your…ways."

The brunet scooted closer and leaned against a shoulder gently, making sure to not scare the other. Closing his eyes, he let out a small breath. "That's no problem with me. I know it's too short of a time to confess feelings or anything like that yet. But I do like you. You're interesting for a human. In the bar, you just…stood out among the rest and it made me curious. And before long, I just wanted to see you. I will not deny that the sex was great or that I enjoyed your facial expressions during it." He watched as a dark red began to spread over Fong's expression and sat up, settling onto the assassin's lap. His arms went around the shoulders, pulling the other closer to him and laid soft kisses along the shoulder, listening intently to the gasps. It was like music to his ears from the way it sounded, taking delight from it.

Fong moved against the demon, knowing immediately that his body was in Tsuna's hand, controlling him. And yet he didn't mind at all. He didn't care when those lips went up towards his neck, towards his ears, or when those hands slipped downwards. There was no doubt that Tsuna was a very sexual being. Though he wasn't sure what type of demon, he didn't care. The touches were delightful and made his heart race within his chest, letting out a low moan when the brunet curved his tongue around the insides of his ears.

He wanted it to continue, but it stopped about halfway and Tsuna pulled back, licking his lips. "Like I said from the very beginning, I won't force you into something you don't want to," His honey-colored eyes peered over the exotic form below him, well aware of the lust that was appearing within Fong's eyes. The man was flustered, lips open for air, and his body moved at each breath. "We can take baby steps if you like."

"Baby steps." Fong repeated quietly to himself, trying to take a few deep breaths for meditation to calm his mind and body down, before laughing. He didn't understand why it was so funny to him all of a sudden, but it was and he continued to grin. Tsuna didn't seem to mind and sat there quietly, waiting for the other to settle. Fong leaned against the couch and smiled while whispering, "Yeah, baby steps." Leaning up, he went for a kiss, wondering how a relationship with a demon of all people will begin and end. Well, it'll definitely keep him on his toes and his interest high. Couldn't hurt, after all.

* * *

Fong rolled over in his bed, feeling that familiar throbbing below and cuddled up against Tsuna, enjoying the early morning air mixed with the stale scent of sex. He smirked to himself, well aware that his partner was awake, but didn't mind it and took hold of the other. "Baby steps, huh?" He felt a shift at that and chuckled, 'Yeah, right.'


End file.
